The Last Changeling (16 page)

I should be leaving, right now, this minute
. But I couldn't break away from him. I needed him.

“I don't need protection,” he said. “I need adventure.”

I shook my head. “You have no idea the trouble it brings.”

“I want it,” he said, and then he was over me. His head dipped to meet me, hovering just over my lips. Noses touching. Tasting each other's breath. I could feel his body r
esponding to me. I needn't have ever been intimate to recognize the way it felt, and I parted my legs to wrap around him.

It was wrong. Unnatural. Wrong. But I couldn't stop it. My hands dug into his hair, pulling him down, down, closer to my face, and then he nipped at my lips with his own. I nipped back.

Nothing serious
, I told myself.
Nothing dangerous
.

But oh, the taste of his lips! And the smell of him. I wanted to feel his breath pushing into my mouth, all of him, pushing into me. I arched my back.

“Please don't go,” he whispered, lips dipping to find mine.

I turned my head. “Now, or otherwise?”

He trailed his lips across my cheek, following me. “Ever,” he said, and a shudder ripped through me. “Please don't go, ever. Please don't leave me.”

“I have to go.”

“Then take me with you.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Up until then, I could almost have pretended this was a game. But now I sat up, pushing him off me, just enough.

“Why not?” he said, though I hadn't told him
no
with words.

“You can't—” My stomach tightened, forcing out a laugh, though it was the last sound I wanted to make. “You can't come with me. I just said I have to protect you.”

He shook his head, rising on his knees to meet me. “That's not how it works.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I protect you.”

“How very archaic,” I drawled, hoping to anger him. Anything to pull him away from me. “How very civilized. How very … ”

Human.

It wasn't a fair accusation. My mother had witnessed, firsthand, a time in history when men didn't control women under the guise of protection. But that wouldn't make sense to him, and it did little good for me, either. After all,
I
wanted to protect
him
.

Why shouldn't we be equals, protecting each other?

“Let me finish the story,” I said.

“Fine.” He pulled away from me, letting the cold move in.

“Where are you going?”

“I can't sleep next to you,” he said, sliding off the bed.

“Why not?” I asked, suddenly angry. The thought of being without him tonight opened a chasm inside of me. “Are you such a slave to your impulses that you can't be near me without having me completely?”

“It's not about that!” He spun around, and the anguish in his voice astonished me. “It has
nothing
to do with that. Don't you realize how you make me feel?”

“Taylor.”

“Stop. I don't need to hear why you can't be with me again. I don't need to hear you reject me over and over again. I get it.”

“All right. I'm sorry.” I could not tell him that my coldness was not intended to be a rejection. I could not tell him that the very reason I pushed him away so hard was because I cared about him. “But Taylor?”

“What?” He stood halfway across the room, facing the wall, but I could still see the side of his face.

“What if tonight were the only night we could lie together?”

He closed his eyes. “Don't say it.”

“I haven't said anything, not plainly.”

“You've said enough. Why are you going back?”

“I have to.”

“Why now?”

“Because I've learned what I needed to learn,” I said carefully. “Now I can face them. Possibly defeat them.”

“Alone?”

“I need you to let it go. I'm here now, and that's all I can offer. And if you would have me, as I can give … ”

He didn't think about it. He moved so fast, he couldn't possibly have had time to think. But when he lay upon the bed, he kept his distance, facing away from me. He waited for me to come to him.

“All right,” he said as I curled into him, “tell me the rest.” His voice was sullen, but he molded his body to mine the moment we touched. I slid my hand up to his chest and he held it close t
o his heart.

“Please don't hate me,” I said, murmuring close to his ear. He said nothing. I sighed. “The princess traveled to the Seelie Court and sought an audience with the Bright Queen.”

I paused, waiting for the back-and-forth I'd come to expect. He didn't disappoint me. After a quiet minute, he said, “Why would the Queen help her?”

I held him tighter. “The princess was offering the one thing the Bright Queen wanted: the destruction of the Dark Court.”

“But wouldn't the Bright Court still reign? Their Queen could seize control—”

“Ah, the princess thought of that as well. Really, the destruction of both courts had been necessary all along. But it was not until this point that she knew how to destroy them. Thus, she offered to take down the Dark Court herself, if the Bright Queen agreed to disband her own court in response. She let the Queen point out that the Dark Lady was too powerful for the princess to defeat. She let the Queen offer to bind the Dark Lady herself.”

“Brilliant.”

I blushed, wishing more than ever that I could kiss him.

Who am I kidding
?

I wanted to do much more than kiss, and he was willing. But soon, I would be out of this place, and these unnatural feelings would leave me.

They had to.

“So the Bright Queen just agreed?” Taylor asked, wholly unaware of the places my thoughts had traveled to.

“She was skeptical, but she was also intrigued. She knew it must not have been easy for the princess to have
such a cold, uncaring mother.”

Taylor twisted a little, to face me. It was almost as if he knew I was talking about myself. “Don't worry,” he said, holding me in that piercing gaze. “I just wanted to see you.”

And I, you
.

I traced my fingers along the muscles in his arms. Memorizing him. “But the Bright Queen was no fool. For all she knew, the princess was merely a Dark-Lady-in-training. So she came up with a way for the princess to prove her loyalty
and
provide a proper offering.”

“An offering?”

I shrugged. “Faeries rarely do anything for free. They like trades.”

“Interesting,” he said, his voice growing groggy. But in spite of his fatigue, he was trying not to fall asleep. He kept blinking to keep his eyes from closing.

I had a feeling neither of us would sleep tonight.

“What did the Bright Queen do?” he asked.

As I spoke the last line of my story, the moonlight filtered in, framing his face in soft light. He looked so sincere then, I almost believed it was natural to want him. “She gave the princess a riddle and sent her on a quest.”

20

T
aylo
R

Lora dressed in black, to match the night. From where I stood, in a velvet vintage tux, the inky blackness started at her chest, where a corset possessively hugged her curves, then crept down her hips like clinging smoke and spread out into forever. It was impossible to know where she ended and the darkness began.

All I could see for sure, as we hurried down the pathway toward the ballroom, was the glow of her arms above her full-length gloves, her seductively enticing décolletage, and her mischievous, grinning face. She also wore a crown—Kylie's self-proclaimed greatest creation, made of glass berries woven through wires. It looked like jeweled branches were rising out of her head.

Keegan danced alongside us in a 1920s pinstripe suit and matching hat. Kylie trailed behind. Pausing for the third time, she hitched up her black satin mini dress. Her gray suit jacket wouldn't stay buttoned, and, although she'd slicked her hair away from her face, a strand kept breaking free, tickling her nose.

She sighed. “Whose idea was this?” she asked, pulling a tube of lip balm from her pocket.

The response was swift and unanimous: “Yours.”

She brushed past us, wheels spinning. “I seriously doubt that.”

As we passed clusters of trees and antique patio furniture, I chewed on my nail and thought about the closeness of the hotel room she and Lora had discussed yesterday. For the past hour, Kylie had been hinting that the room could be used for more than an after party, but I couldn't even think about trying to seduce Lora tonight. Everyone would be around, and besides, to think about that was to think about the fact that Lora was leaving.

I needed to put it out of my mind. I needed to put one foot in front of the other and try to have a good time.

Kylie snapped her fingers, bringing me back to the present moment. Mostly. “Can we just do this and get it over with?”

“I thought you couldn't wait to do this,” I said.

“You
have
been blathering about it all month,” Keegan agreed.

Kylie rolled her eyes. “All part of my light-hearted façade. I just want to prove it's as bad as I think it's going to be, so I can feel justified in scorning a normal teenage existence.”

Keegan pinched her shoulder. “You're such a liar. You know you're going to love it, and you're terrified.”

Her lip quivered as she said, “Yeah. Right.”

“Sure you're not going to burst into flames?” I asked Keegan.

He turned, his cheeks round above his joker's grin. “I get it. Prom is for people who have pre-marital sex after covering the undesirables in buckets of blood. I'm not scared.” He raised his eyebrows twice. “It's all about perspective.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning … ” He tipped his hat at a slant. “I'm not attending this party. I'm crashing.”

–––––

The crowd outside the ballroom was unreal. It looked like none of the outcasts were being let in. Dressed in fairy wings and fancy crowns, party dresses over ripped jeans, and suits from every possible era except our own, they stood in a haphazard line, girls holding hands with girls, and boys holding hands with boys. I was content to hang back and wait in line, but Lora had other plans. Pushing her way through the crowd, she led us to the great double doors of the ballroom. She marched right up to Principal Jade, cutting in front of Alexia Mardsen in the process, and boomed, “What's the problem?”

Principal Jade tucked a strand of orangey-red hair behind her ear. She must have borrowed her dress from a friend. In my four years at Unity, I'd never seen her in anything but a neutral-toned pantsuit.

Tonight, she wore sequins.

“Well, hello to you too, Miss Belfry,” she said. “I'm happy to see you're participating in student events.” But the principal didn't look happy. She looked exhausted. There were dark patches under her eyes, and her shoulders hunched toward the ground.

“Well.” Lora linked arms with Kylie, causing Alexia to raise her eyebrows. “I'm
trying
to participate. But it seems that a small minority have taken it upon themselves to discriminate against me.”

Principal Jade's face crumpled. “Miss Belfry, I—you—I'm happy to sit and talk with you during school hours about your ideas. But this is not the time.”

“You've been conspiring with Mrs. Rosencart,” Lora teased, a comparison the principal obviously did not like.

Her lips formed a very thin line. “You well know that Mrs. Rosencart and I differ on many things. But when it comes to order in my school, I will not—”

“Forgive me for interrupting, Camilla—”

“
Principal
Jade.”

“Principal Jade, this is not about order,” Lora said smoothly. “This is about justice, fairness, and doing what's right. You, of all people—”

“I'm warning you, Miss Belfry—” The principal's face was suddenly burning. It looked like Lora had struck a nerve. “I would like nothing more than to permit this group into the building, but unfortunately several students—in fact, the parents of several students—have made it clear they are not comfortable with the promotion of certain lifestyles at school events.”

“Interesting,” Lora said, turning to the rustling crowd. “Do any of you have parents?”

The response was a resounding
yes
.

“Right.” Lora touched her lips, catching the principal's eye. “So, as far as I can count—and, as you well know, I do excel in math—there are far more students outside than there could possibly be inside. Which means,” she said, holding up her fingers and counting in silence, “that the students outside have more parents than the students inside. Isn't it rewarding when the education system does its job?”

Principal Jade lost what little steam she had. She squirmed as if her dress were shrinking. “I'm happy to see you taking an interest in mathematics. And social justice, for that matter. But that doesn't change the fact that tonight is not the time.”

“Sounds like an argument the Nazis would have made,” I said, taking my place at Lora's side. “Terrible things have happened throughout history because people were convinced to be quiet.”

Several students yelled in agreement.

“Mr. Alder,” the principal began. “Please.”

“I don't know about you,” Lora said to the people behind us, who were pushing themselves forward. “But I'm sick of being told to keep quiet.”

The crowd erupted. Screams and applause ripped through the night and Principal Jade stumbled, falling against the building.

For a second no one moved.

Then Lora held out a hand. “You all right?”

I watched the shift in the principal's features as she took Lora's hand. I couldn't say what it was, exactly, that I saw in her eyes, but I knew she'd changed her mind.

“Well.” The principal spoke so that only those closest could hear. “I would certainly hate to have to refund all these tickets.”

Lora nodded solemnly. “That would be too bad.”

“Oh for godsakes.” Alexia rolled her smoky Cleopatra eyes. “Just let the kids in already. If we stand out here any longer, I'll be dressed for last season.”

Naturally, everyone's eyes fell on her dress. Red. Strapless. Skin-tight.

How can she breathe in that thing?

Principal Jade smirked. “That would be a tragedy,” she said, then turned back to Lora. “You've made your point. Even if you did cut in front of everyone in line to do it.”

“Forgive me,” Lora replied. She held the principal's eye, her lips curling, and moved to the back of the line. We followed.

When we reached the double doors again, a more relaxed Principal Jade took our tickets and waved us inside.

–––––

My head swam with visions of sugarplums and other delectable things. In spite of the second-skin nature of her dress, Kylie had managed to smuggle a flask of whiskey into the ballroom, and its contents were currently swirling in three separate stomachs. Only Keegan had declined, saying a clouded mind would give him more reason to tell his classmates what he really thought of them.

He wanted to take the high road.

Too bad.

I watched Lora spin in circles around a wildly flailing Kylie. Her crown had fallen off twice. Now it hung around my wrist, the inner plastic spikes poking my skin. As for the rest of my body, it was planted against a wall on the far side of the refreshment table. The circular room glowed with the light of a dozen chandeliers. Up above, the domed glass ceiling revealed a sky dotted with starlight. For a high school prom, the whole thing was surprisingly romantic.

Not that it would do me any good.

On the other side of the room, Alexia and the other Prom Court princesses (minus Lora) had positioned themselves on the stage where the coronation of king and queen would take place. A herd of guys stood below them attempting to dance, with varying results. Every few minutes one of the guys would try to sneak onto the stage, only to be shut down by the dancing princesses. I kept looking for a sign that said, “No boys allowed.”

Alexia probably tattooed it on her inner thigh.

I laughed a little at that. Still, underneath my laughter, I felt nervousness unfurl inside me like a wave. Any minute it would rise up and I would drown. I was determined to accompany Lora when she went back home, but how could I do that when I couldn't even ask her to dance?

Yeah. I was that pathetic. At this point, I'd been watching her dance for half an hour. But now I was going to do it. Now was the time. My body buzzed with excitement and whiskey, and the pathway to Lora was suddenly clear. Even better, she was heading in my direction, her hips rocking as she walked. A slow song blared from the speakers.

She was mere feet away. Her gaze landed on my face.

And then she passed me by. “Hello Bradley.”

I turned around in time to see Brad glide across the floor. Dressed in black jeans and a tuxedo T-shirt, he was all too smug. “Hell-o, sexy.”

Now she was coy. “Are you ready to dance?”

“Hell yeah.” He slid an arm around her waist and led her back to the dance floor.

My heart dropped to my feet and was stomped by passersby. The slow song seemed to go on forever. In that eternity, I grew to hate every clichéd lyric. I watched, and tried not to watch, as Lora held tightly to Brad. Burning remnants of whiskey crawled back up my throat.

Then, just when I thought I could no longer endure this torture, something strange caught my eye. Next to the stage, a girl with sugar-white dreadlocks was dancing with a boy from my gym class. Her eyes glinted red as she scanned the ballroom.

Who is that?

I shook myself, shifting my gaze. There were lots of people I didn't know at this school. Besides, we were allowed to bring guests to prom.

A new face was no cause for alarm.

Then, on the other side of the room, I saw a guy spinning a hazy-eyed junior. The guy's muscles were so big they stilted his movements. His mouth was stretched into a deranged smile.

“Monsters,” I mumbled, and then laughed at my drunken revelation. “There are monsters at this party.”

A flash of red caught my eye, and again, I followed it without much thought. Lora was leading Brad in small circles, the way someone might dance at a medieval ball. When her hand slid up his shirt, I thought I was going to throw up. But when she pulled down his collar, I caught a glimpse of a yellow baby's bib.

How did she do that
?

I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Other people were pointing and whispering behind their hands. I watched the trail of whispers leap from one ear to the next, traveling around the room. I followed it all the way back to—

“Lora. Hi.”

“May I?” she asked, holding out a hand.

I blinked. The strange series of events flashed like memories of a dream, but the images couldn't hold my attention. Lora was in front of me now, giving me exactly what I wanted. Who cared that Brad was suddenly nowhere to be seen?

I pulled her close. “I missed you,” I said, unable to stop myself.

She laughed into my neck. “And I, you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around me. It was perfect. I wanted it to last forever.

So, of course, after a minute she said, “This is unnerving.”

“What?” I inhaled her scent. Even now, she smelled like evergreens.

“This.” She gestured with her hand. “Pilfering moments of intimacy beneath the watchful gaze of strangers.”

“I'll take moments of intimacy over nothing.”

She hugged me close. “Do you like this?”

I laughed, suddenly dizzy. “Not the dance.” Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, I let my hand linger. “But I like you.”

“I feel suffocated,” she said.

I jerked my hand away. Too late, I realized she wasn't talking about me.

She spoke into my ear. “I think that if we started to devour each other right now, they would look upon us as if we were a show. Nothing feels real here. Everything is plotted out.”

I struggled to make sense of this, wondering if the alcohol was contributing to the shifting patterns of her speech. It was as if she was seeking a union between who she was and who she'd been pretending to be.

“What can I do?” I stepped back, giving her room to breathe.

“Indulge me,” she said wryly, as if apologetic. “Your drink has broken down the walls I built to keep the anger out. And the fear. The lust.”

I exhaled sharply.

“And yet, you must know what I feel for you is more than that.” She placed a gloved hand on my neck, sliding her fingers into my hair. “Would you escape with me, for a few moments, to get away from all this?”